The Progress In The City
life was so simple
then: papa plowed the field
mama cooked sweet potatoes
water was inside a bamboo pole
plates were banana leaves
we rode on carabao backs
picnicked on nearby rivers
climbed coconut trees
no one minded us
whether we were right or wrong
we were happier then
then everything changed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Tell Me Again
Tell me again papa,
Of how my life was taken, .
Tell me again papa of how reality was shaken.
Tell me again mama,
Of how my life ended.
Tell me again mama,
Of how my human instincts faded.
Tell me again papa,
Of how I took my true form.
tell me again papa,
About the blackness of the storm.
Tell me again mama,
Of how you teet sunk into my skin.
tell me again mama,
Of how I came to win.
Tell me again papa,
About the pain that gave me forever.
Tell me again pap,
Of how you made me so clever.
Tell me again mama,
Of all the time we have to share in our own empire.
tell me again mama,
Oh how I became a vampire.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At The Beach On A Sunday Morning
this is an isolated place
the coconut trees are growing uninterrupted
by the talisay trees long ago cut by papa
fenced by barbed wires and planted with carabao grass
this is one thing that sometimes i miss in my life
the molave gate is left open
for the caretaker knows that i am coming
to spend my sunday here...
i told them that i prefer being alone this time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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an unhappy childhood of this man who names himself 'I'.....
i've seen this picture of you
on that far corner of the world
land of snow and you are inside that very thick
winter clothes
there is that smile in your face
and i am taking a closer look
it is sour.
i know what sour is. I've been one for forty years
wearing that
sour smile, and i have many reasons why a smile must be sour
for forty years
the reasons are sour
very sour
beyond those tastes of a hundred green lemons
or a green mango with some disturbing gums on its mouth
i burned all my pictures in college
except those when i was yet a boy beside my mama and our white dog
i was in grade one and i did not like school and mama forced me into it
i was selling chocolates and i ate them all and mama was mad at me and beat me with a stick
papa did not like me reading books as he does not know how to read
i climb trees and hide on the leaves and read stories
in our dialect and draw some pictures of women without their dresses on
you see i still have this picture of myself riding a carabao and hauling some wood and coconut palms
i take a close look of my own smile, It is very sour
and it tastes like yours, but perhaps mine is the worst
but i am happy now, i know how to suppress sour smiles, i know how to manage and project myself
i smile like a cow now, and laugh like a horse
because all of them are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black And White
Stick to your guns
Diamonds are a girl's best friend
Nobody knows the trouble this poor boy's seen
People will believe anything
Man on the run
Always gets it in the end
Nobody cares 'cause nobody shares his dream
People don't believe anything
Everything is changed
Everything is still the same
It's just a part of the game
Blood on the moon
Patterns running across the floor
A musical inside a movie inside a dream
Guess you can believe anything
Everything is changed
Everything is still the same
It's all a part of the game
Mama, Papa, boys, and girls
Holding hands around the world
Wrong is wrong and right is right
Nothing changes overnight
I'll believe it when I see it in black and white
Tell me the truth
Nobody leaves here alive
In the black core of doubt
trying to get out in the light
Sometimes you can't see anything
Everyone is changed
Everyone is still the same
They can't get out of the game
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Sweet Home
sunday on a home sweet home
from the city
to this little nipa hut
on top of a hill
that father built
where the guava trees are filled
with ripe fruits
where i climb and gather and taste
the sweetness of its pink flesh
where the carabaos rest
in the coolness of mudholes
where i take my ride on them
in the river nearby
on crystal clear waters
where some fish swim on shallow waters
inviting me to fish and catch them
for lunch of pearl white glutenous rice
and with banana leaves as plates
and some wild chicken's barbecued breast
and with my bare hands and
some childhood friends
we shall take this simple feast
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black & White
Stick to your guns
Diamonds are a girls best friend
Nobody knows the trouble this poor boys seen
People will believe anything
Man on the run
Always gets it in the end
Nobody cares cause nobody shares his dream
People dont believe anything
Everything is changed
Everything is still the same
Its just a part of the game
Blood on the moon
Patterns running across the floor
A musical inside a movie inside a dream
Guess you can believe anything
Everything is changed
Everything is still the same
Its all a part of the game
Mama, papa, boys, and girls
Holding hands around the world
Wrong is wrong and right is right
Nothing changes overnight
Ill believe it when I see it in black and white
Tell me the truth
Nobody leaves here alive
In the black core of doubt
Trying to get out in the light
Sometimes you cant see anything
Everyone is changed
Everyone is still the same
They cant get out of the game
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Its Your Life
They say that our love is all wrong
And that we should not carry on
But I say theyre wrong
I want you so bad
Oh weve been together for so long
How could they think we dont belong ?
But theyll never know what you and I have
Call your mama
Call your papa
Call the preacher
Hold on hold on
Call your mama
Call your papa
Go on and call the preacher
Hold on hold on
All I want to do is take it all the way with you
Its your life, its your life
All I want to do is take it all the way with you
Its your life, its your life, its your life
They say that we dont have a chance
Were victims of unjust romance
But they couldnt see the truth in their hands
We dont have to live like they do
Well run away if we have to
And well start a life thats shining and new
Thats shining and new
Call your mama
Call your papa
Go on and call the preacher
Hold on hold on
Call your mama
Call your papa
Call the preacher
Hold on hold on
All I want to do is take it all the way with you
Its your life, its your life, its your life
( repeat til the end )
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Papa Was A Rollin' Stone
it was the third of september
that day I'll always remember, yes I will
'cause that was the day that my daddy died
never had a chance to see him, no
never heard nothing but bad things about him
mama, I'm depending on you to tell me the truth
mama just hung her head and said
chorus
"papa was a rollin' stone
wherever he laid his hat was his home
and when he died
all he left us was alone"
(repeat)
hey, mama, is it true what they say
that papa never worked aday in his life
some bad talk going around sayin'
papa had three outside children
and another wife
that ain't right
heard some talk about papa and his storefront
preachin'
talkin' about saving souls and all the time
leachin'
and dealing in dirt
stealin' in the name of the Lord
but mama she just said
chorus
say I heard my papa was a jack of all trades
is that what papa sent to an early grave?
folks say papa would beg, borrow or steal just
to pay his bills
hey, mama, folks say papa was never much in thinkin'
spent most of his time chasin' women and drinkin'
but mother, I'm depending on you
to tell me the truth
but my mama she just said
chorus (2x)
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Papa Was A Rolling Stone
Papa was a rollin' stone
It was the third of september
That day i'll always remember, yes I will
'cause that was the day that my daddy died
Never had a chance to see him, no
Never heard nothin' but bad things about him
Mama, i'm depending on you to tell me the truth
Mama just hung her head and said
Chorus
Papa was a rollin' stone
Wherever he laid his hat was his home
And when he died
All he left us was alone (repeat)
Hey, mama, is it true what they say
That papa never worked a day in his life
Some bad talk going around sayin'
Papa had there outside children
And another wife
That ain't right
Heard some talk about papa and his storefront
Preachin'
Talkin' about saving souls and all the time
Leaching
And dealing in dirt
Stealin' in the name of the lord
But mama she just said
Chorus
Say, I heard my papa was a jack of all trades
Is that what sent papa to an early grave?
Folks say papa would beg, borrow or steal just
To pay his bills.
Hey, mama, folks say papa was never much on thinkin'
Spent most of his time chansin' women and drinkin'
But mother, i'm depending on you to tell me the
Truth
But my mama she just said
Chorus(2x)
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On A Calm River
on a calm river
a wooden sail
and a man paddling
his way toward
a small town
some bamboo
leaves on the
side of this
postcard from
my beloved mama
when she left papa.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kyrie, mass in c. k 427, Mozart
Papa is dead.
He is following mama.
His coffin is white
And shiny
Very much like
That of mama
In kyrie
The soprano
Sings for papa
In the church
For his last
Day today.
All seems to be white.
Pure, o they were
Purely in love
When they were
Alive, they always
Quarrel, papa kicks
Mama and mama
Bites him in return
They seem not to
Endure each other’s
Presence and each
Would want to
Kill each other.
Mama died first
And papa takes
Her picture and
Keeps it in his
Pocket and he
(mind you)
cries all night
papa loved mama
mama loved papa
after all.
Listen to the song
Of kyrie
Amadeus Mozart
A hymn for the
Dead who cannot endure
Each other when
They were once alive.
Until now, it is something
That I cannot understand.
I listen to kyrie
The soprano taking us to the tip of the mountain
Her human voice
Topping my puzzlement of it all
Why in death, why after death,
We realize the person that we miss
When he is gone, we say we love him most.
Papa loved mama after all
We loved papa after all.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To A Neighbor
hot noodle soup that's newly cooked
outside the night is cold
as stars begin to twinkle, the moon to hover
on top of the banana palms
the sound of bamboo leaves shall serve as music
to a choir of cicadas singing
can you share your time for a cup of noodle with me?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Windy Afternoon At The Beachfront
under the coconut trees
a nipa hut
a boy on a swing
another boy pushing his toy cart
the little girl on the bamboo stair
hugging her doll
the mother is burning the dry leaves
the father is mending the nets
such a happy family
perhaps, who knows? i do not even know them
i am just passing by
trying to breathe trying to take so much salty air
inside my lungs
on this windy afternoon at the beach front
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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425
one more day papa
for me to get to know you more
how the days and years have built a wall between us
how you kept on telling me that after mama died the years had become so
hollow and even so cruel
one day more papa
you have always repeated that we are destined to be split
like a bamboo
and that sharp bolo does it with nothing but seconds
i leave back to where i am
and you will be staying to where you are
you tell me your heart is broken
but i will not tell you that mine too is bleeding
one day more papa and there will be no other days
i have long been dead away from your hands
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What my mama utters in her deathbed
She is dying of diabetes, all her organs
Malfunctioning
On sugared complications,
Except some portions of her brain
Still asking questions,
Where is Leonora?
She is in the office mama still working
And where is Betty?
She is on your bedside mama and she is crying
Why? Is she sad? Did she pay her debts to the china man?
And where is Marcelino? Mama he is in Nigeria working
On a foreign ship and he has no way of coming,
his company is
Not allowing him to take his leave,
But his wife is here.
I don’t want her here
Who are you? Mama, I am Ric your son,
I am your favorite, don’t you
Remember me anymore?
Hold my hand; I am seeing some ghosts of your grandpa and grandma
And they hated me, hold my hand and hug me, I am cold, get me a blanket
And where is your papa? Mama, papa will be coming in a minute, but he
Is still drunk, but he loves you mama,
Who are you?
I do not know you; I was never a part of your dreams,
Leave me.
Mama, I am holding you, you are not cold you are warm,
Mama, just sleep
And she goes away just like that, sleeping on a travel, just like that,
And Betty cries,
Did she love her? Did he also love her?
when she died, some of us were there,
but i know she would have been happier left alone
to figure out
death herself
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Mama
Orbison / melson
Sweet mama, come love me, sweet mama, come hug me, sweet mama, I want your love
Sweet mama, come hold me, sweet mama, dont scold me, sweet mama, I need your love
Sweet mama, I love you mama, come squeeze me, I know you wanna
Sweet mama, sweet mama, sweet mama, I need your love
Sweet mama, youre fine, sweet mama, I know youre mine, sweet mama, I love your love
Sweet mamas like candy, my mamas a real jam candy, sweet mama, sweet mama
Sweet mama, oh come on sweet mama, sweet mama, come on honey, sweet mama
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Bless This Child
Billie Holiday / Arthur Herzog Jr.
Them that's got shall get
Them that's not shall lose
So the Bible said and it still is news
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own
Yes, the strong gets more
While the weak ones fade
Empty pockets don't ever make the grade
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own
Money, you've got lots of friends
Crowding round the door
When you're gone, spending ends
They don't come no more
Rich relations give
Crust of bread and such
You can help yourself
But don't take too much
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own
He just worry 'bout nothin'
Cause he's got his own
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Papa-Omm-Mow-Mow
Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow
The Beach Boys
Frazier/White/Wilson, Jr./Harris
The last time we were up here
We did a song by another group of guys
We like very much
A real friendly group of guys
Called the Rivingtons
Their song is called "Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow"
A papa-oom-mow-mow
A papa-oom-mow-mow
A papa-oom-mow-mow
A papa-oom-mow-mow
Funniest sound I ever heard
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
But I can't understand a single word
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Well if he's serious or if he's playin'
Woo my my it's all he's sayin
Papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Well say there pop, say what's your name?
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Well don't you come around and show your face
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
But hearing the sound I can't figure it out
Oo-wee this sound makes me stop and shout
Papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
Doot doot doot
Doot doot doot
A papa-papa-papa-papa-oom-mow-mow
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Doot doot doot
Well I hear this sound everywhere I go
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
From the record, TV, or the radio
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
But now it's spreadin' all through the land
I still can't seem to understand
Papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-hoooo
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-hoooo
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
Papa-papa-papa-hoooo
Doot doot doot
(A papa-oom-mow-mow a papa-oom-mow-mow)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer
summer is an ancestral house
surrounded with antique trees
blushing leaves
rainbow flowers
nearby the blue sea
white sticky rice and
grilled tangigue
fresh buko juice and
straw hat and a swing
between two coconut trees.
and silence and sea breeze.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back To The Usual Walk In The Rice Fields
i am back to this place
and i am feeling strange
there are changes
and some i can tell have been missing
a few meters from where i stand
under this mahogany tree
where the wind is cold and fresh
flavored by the newly cut rice stalks
over this spread of golden fields
the well is still there
but the brown woman with earth skin is gone
an island of coconut trees
(and some mango trees
and banana shrubs)
has turned bald
and the grasses claim another territory to its grassland
the sparrows must have migrated to the nearby forest
the cable lines run an empty length of a sigh
from one pole to another
endlessly clinging is this anonymous electricity
the twenty or so white herons are here again
pecking on some little frogs in small ponds
i walk under the sun
revisiting reevaluating rekindling perhaps
the reasons why i must go on living
a life unlived for quite a time
why are the fields empty? why are the blackbirds circling the tree?
why do people pass by this path unable to know the significance
of this human journey?
the sun is up like an absurdity triumphant
a dog comes near me
it is waggling its tail and i am calling him another name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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